


Tell me it's okay, if I ask you to stay

by HognoseSnake



Series: Long Live the King [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Gen, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Sharing a Bed, it's really really mild, it's so goddamn soft, soft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-11
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:14:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26250055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HognoseSnake/pseuds/HognoseSnake
Summary: George can't sleep.Reeling from the past few months, the two take a moment to really process the fact that they both survived it all.--Oneshot based on my much longer thing 'Green & Gold', but I don't think you need to read that to understand this fluffy lil fic.Title from First Aid Kit's song 'It's a Shame'
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Long Live the King [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1912489
Comments: 68
Kudos: 2042





	Tell me it's okay, if I ask you to stay

**Author's Note:**

> I had this scene stuck in my head but couldn't think of a suitable place to put it in the main work, so here you go, as a little offshoot of it.

George couldn’t sleep. 

It had been two days since Clay had walked free, been forgiven for his past, and moved into the Cleric’s tower with him. 

They had their own rooms, not huge, but spacious, and after so long without somewhere permanent to call their own George certainly wasn’t complaining. 

But he couldn’t sleep.

That first day had been fine. He'd been exhausted, but Sapnap had insisted they go out and celebrate. George only had the one drink, keeping the fact that he was still recovering in mind. Clay, on the other hand, had gotten completely plastered, and spent the later hours leaning on George's shoulder, telling Sapnap what a good friend he was. 

George and Sapnap had both been bemused by the exchange. 

George had eventually dragged Clay home, whilst Clay giggled and stumbled unhelpfully over his own feet. When they got to Clay's room, Clay had collapsed on his bed, pinning George under him. George had tried to escape, but Clay had whined loudly and held on tight. Clay was bigger and stronger than George, and George had been tired. So he had just fallen asleep and let Clay cling to him, and relentlessly teased him about it the following morning. 

He rolled over onto his front and punched his pillow a couple of times, hoping that would fluff it up a little and make it more comfortable. 

He’d spent the day organising trade routes and delivery days for the Cleric’s workshop, teaching a few of the juvenile clerics how to do basic first aid, and pouring over the books that had been salvaged from the domain of the Mad King. He wasn’t the most senior Cleric, which was a relief, but the ones older than him were generally too frail to do much of anything other than offer diagnoses and give instructions on how to brew potions. 

Clay had hovered in the corner, still in the midst of his days off before being sent to advise the Mad King. 

It had been a busy day.

His stomach hurt.

He was exhausted. 

He shut his eyes and told himself to just breathe deeply. Sleep would come for him. 

Except. 

He saw behind his eyes Clay plummeting off the side of the fortress, him being tossed into the air by a pig monster, him being stabbed by Fish, by Null, by Xilo, by Techno. 

He grumbled and sat up, rubbing his eyes. 

_This is stupid_. 

He’d been able to sleep without Clay nearby for the nearly three weeks he’d been in prison. It hadn’t been good sleep, but he’d slept. 

He was also recovering from an eight-month long journey and abdominal stab wound, but still. 

He sat there in the dark, scowling down at his sheets, and thought about what the plan was. 

Honestly, he thought he just wanted to hear Clay breathing. He snored a little in his sleep, and it was like the sound of rain against the window or the rhythmic chirping of a cricket. Comforting. Confirmation you weren’t alone. Something to focus on other than your inability to fall asleep. 

He wondered how pathetic it would be if he grabbed his pillow and blanket and snuck into Clay’s room downstairs. He’d be fine sleeping on the floor. He wouldn’t even need to wake him up. George rose with the sun, so he’d be able to sneak back out before Clay even noticed he was there, and neither of them would have to endure the endless teasing from the other-

It was then that he heard a knock on his bedroom door, the noise startlingly loud through the quiet, cold night. 

George got out of bed and padded over to the door, opening it a crack. 

Clay was standing there, smiling somewhat sheepishly, pillow under one arm, blanket around his shoulders. 

“Can’t sleep?” George asked. Clay just nodded. 

“You neither, huh?”

George nodded, opened his mouth to explain, and then shut it again. 

“I was uh…” Clay said, holding up pillow and blanket. 

“The bed’s big enough for the two of us,” George said, opening the door wider and letting Clay in. Clay just laughed softly and came into the room, throwing his stuff down on George’s bed and threw himself onto it. George snickered, shutting the door and flopping down next to him. 

They wriggled around before eventually getting comfortable under the covers, elbowing each other deliberately, digging their fingers into each other’s ticklish spots, well learned over the course of many months. 

The wind howled outside his window. 

“Nights like this almost make me miss the Nether,” Clay said, settling down on his side. George lay facing him, a few inches away. He quirked up an eyebrow. 

“Really?” he said. 

“Almost,” Clay grinned, shutting his eyes.

George giggled. They both lay in silence for a long time, just listening to each other breathe. When Clay spoke it startled George a little, even though he was only whispering. 

“Thanks for this,” he whispered. 

“It’s no problem,” George whispered, hesitated, and decided to come clean. “I was about five minutes away from doing what you did.” 

Clay giggled a little and shifted closer, peeking one eye out. 

“You scared of the big bad monsters, Georgie?” he asked, and George gently elbowed him. 

“No,” he said, and stopped. Clay’s expression softened. Like he was waiting for an explanation. Like he already knew whatever George was about to say. 

George took a steadying breath. “I keep remembering you going…when Null grabbed you, and you both fell…” he trailed off. He hoped Clay got the picture. 

Clay nodded, looking up at a spot just above George’s head. 

“I know what you mean,” he said. “The first few days when I was in Techno’s dungeon, before Sapnap came and told me you'd woken up, I kept…like…dreaming about you lying there on that walkway with that knife in your gut and bleeding to death.” 

Clay glanced down at George and smiled thinly. “It sucked.” 

George thought about Clay, alone in the freezing dark cell, not knowing if he was alive or not. 

George shifted a little closer, wrapping his arms around Clay’s waist, leaning his head on Clay’s collarbone. Clay pressed his mouth into George’s forehead, resting, one arm draped around his shoulders. They lay like that for a while, the warm breath from Clay’s nose tickling his forehead. 

Something about the night made him feel honest. 

“It’s hard to believe, sometimes, that we both made it,” he whispered, just barely audible. 

“Yeah,” Clay whispered, “You’re telling me.” 

“I only nearly-died once,” George said defensively. Clay pulled back just slightly to glare down at him, but there was no heat behind his gaze. 

“What about the ravine?” 

“I fell in a spider’s web, I was fine.” 

“A spider showed up and tried to eat you!” 

“Yeah, but you nearly died _three_ times, maybe more.” 

“What about the time with the slime?” 

“What about the time with Xilo?” 

“What about the-

“Clay, listen, we already agreed on the score-“

“We did _not-_ “ 

“I’m in the lead, you nearly died more often, so I win the world’s shittiest competition.” 

They both giggled a little, settling back down, and lay there quietly for several long moments. 

He thought about all the times they’d nearly died. 

“Clay,” he whispered, staring at his shoulder. 

“George.” 

“I’m bad at saying it but…” he trailed off trying to find the words, “I just want you to know that I really…I really care about you, okay? And I’m really glad you’re my friend. And even if we had to go on that stupid trip where we nearly died the whole time, and even though you were sent to kill me, I’m really thankful that we met. I just. I don't think I tell you that enough.” 

He felt Clay smile and press a firm, dry kiss to his forehead. 

“Yeah,” he whispered. “I love you too, dude.”

* * *

George woke up the next morning after a long, dreamless sleep, lulled by Clay's soft snoring. He woke up still tangled in Clay's long limbs, the blankets twisted around them both. He glanced out the window at the rising sun. He should probably get up and think about breakfast, or start planning for the day. 

He started to move and Clay's face screwed up in his sleep, his fingertips tightening a little around George. George smiled and settled back down, curled up against Clay's chest. 

He could sleep in, just for today. 

**Author's Note:**

> When the pandemic is over everyone should go and platonically cuddle your homies, 10/10 would recommend


End file.
